Storge
by Secret-Ninja1
Summary: Their love is always too smothering to me. Embracing arms making it hard to breathe; warm fingers making me choke. Soothing words set my lungs aflame and encouraging words always with my best interest in mind. My parents, my siblings. They all love me.


_Their love is always too smothering to me. Embracing arms making it hard to breathe; warm fingers making me choke. Soothing words set my lungs aflame and encouraging words always with my best interest in mind. My parents, my siblings. They all love me._

* * *

Killua's hands were shoved in his pockets, a thick scarf wrapped around his neck and a blue jacket kept him from the worst of the cold weather. He was seven, the boy making his way home after a job well done and the promise of a raised allowance. His cheeks colored with the combination of the chilly wind and the cheerful thought of his brothers welcoming him back.

The buses and cars roared down the busy streets, couples staying close and holding hands as they braved the weather together, parents and children laughing and playing in the snow that gathered around the sidewalk.

Killua thought of his own family, too. He never recalled his mother or father spending time with him outside of training or family meetings. He wondered if they would do anything for the winter holiday this year.

The snow under his shoes crunched with his weight and the sound became the only thing he focused on to keep his mind off of the cold outside. He'd been through worse, but the sting on his nose and cheeks was still uncomfortable.

The first to greet him was the new butler apprentice, a girl older than him by a few years. She offered a bow and a welcome back before stepping aside and letting him pass. She was dressed in nothing but simple slacks and a white blouse; Killua considered the thought of giving her his scarf, but doubted she would take it, anyway.

The entrance to his home was empty of any member of the Zoldyck family, just him and two butlers that stood guarding the hallway.

"Killu," The sound of his brother's voice from the second floor made him look up, meeting eyes with his oldest sibling. He was leaning against the staircase railing, his disheveled black hair a sign that he was sleeping earlier.

Killua smiled and took off towards Illumi, forgetting all about his shoes that were tracking snow in the house. He always looked forward to the hugs he got from his older brother when he came home, if Alluka wasn't already the first one to greet him.

Illumi was dressed in a soft green bath robe, a sight all too rare to Killua. It wasn't often that he got to see his siblings after a job, even when they were home relaxing. He buried his face into the robe, settling into Illumi's arms and feeling the warmth that wasn't offered outside earlier.

Killua fleetingly wondered where Milluki was at this hour, but he assumed everyone else who was home was already in bed. "Did I wake you coming in?" He knew Illumi always required a healthy amount of sleep outside of work, which meant that he often retired to bed earlier than anyone else in the house.

Illumi responded with a chuckle and ran his fingers through the matted mess that was Killua's hair. "I stayed awake to see you." It didn't take much for Illumi to force his eyes open because he was used to those conditions at his age. "I will admit that I dozed off a few times, though."

"Illu!" Killua pouted and gripped his robe harder, nearly clinging to his chest. His older brother protested the action, Killua being lifted up until he was eye-level with Illumi and forced into a carrying position. The assassin was already walking away from the staircase and towards Killua's room when his sleeve was tugged by the burden in his arms. "Can I sleep in your room tonight?"

The footsteps stopped and Illumi paused, looking down and tilting his head in thought. His brother's nose was buried in his shoulder, his blue eyes closing and he was beginning to relax. He wasn't tired from the trip back, Illumi figured out, but that didn't stop the boy from succumbing to the comforts that were offered by the older assassin's presence. "Of course."

* * *

Vomit dripped and stained his jacket, green and yellow morphing into the baby blue fabric and ruining it. The room smelled like blood and acid, vile rising in his throat from the scent. His hands were bound behind his back, tied to a single chair in the middle of the room. He was deprived of all foods and liquids, making Killua wonder how he was still managing to throw up with nothing in his stomach.

Chains hung overhead, the stone walls offering no sign of the outside world. He wasn't sure what time it was, either, only estimating the amount of hours he had spent in the chamber. He wasn't supposed to speak at all; a type of training that taught him the importance of information and secrets.

He lifted his head at the sound of the metal door opening, watching as two of his brothers descended down the set of stairs that led to his secluded spot. Illumi was dressed in clean clothes, his hands now free of the blood Killua had shed from Milluki's whip. The pain was durable, but his skin would be raw for days and his wounds would open up with any sudden movement he made.

Milluki unlocked the cuffs that were bounding Killua to the chair, letting the metal drop to the floor. The younger boy gave a blank and unreadable stare, slowly lifting himself from his seat. His legs burned with the action, his muscles cramped and heavy as he took the first few steps towards the entrance. He didn't speak to Illumi as he passed, his eyes only fixed on the door that led to the hallway out.

He shed his jacket and abandoned it on the steps, freeing himself of the retched smell that was a product of his own body's habitual response. All he wanted now was a shower to wash away the dirt and blood and vomit that still lingered on his skin.

His butlers were quick to draw a bath for him, rushing to fill the tub and replace the bathroom with fresh towels and soap. They let him be to undress and soak, closing his eyes as the water stung his cuts and sent a dull throb of pain to his body.

He disappeared into his room not long after, changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top that he used to sleep in. The windows in his room were locked shut, preventing the snow outside from drifting into his bedroom and keeping the place warm. He hated how stuffy it got in his room.

The cuts on his legs rubbed against the cotton of his pants, irritating the injury, but Killua paid it no mind. He was used to any type of pain his family inflicted, though it still hurt no matter how much he tried to play it off. It wasn't their fault, pain was simply a part of the procedure. He was heir to the family business, whether he wanted to be or not.

A knock on the door alerted the boy from his musings, commanding the visitor to come in rather than open the door himself.

Illumi had stepped inside, his face stoic as always and his dark eyes watching Killua shift into a sitting position on his bed. He was holding his jacket, now washed and clean of the mess created earlier that day. It wasn't folded neatly: the sleeves crumpled and sticking out around the side, a sign that it wasn't folded by any of the butlers in the mansion.

His brother set it down on the edge of his bed, his thin fingers releasing the jacket and reaching to cup Killua's chin. It wasn't meant to be a comforting gesture, only a way for Illumi to inspect the damage done to the other's face. It felt nice anyway, Killua leaning into the touch and letting himself be studied.

"I'm fine," He said, sapphire orbs staring up to meet onyx ones. "Milluki didn't hit anywhere near-"

"I'm glad you're okay." Illumi's hand was cold, his skin smelling faintly of laundry detergent before he pulled away. He didn't speak after that, only seating himself next to Killua on his bed and combing through his white hair.

* * *

"Try and catch me!" Killua dashed through the snow and slid behind the pile he had created earlier that morning. It was meant to act as a wall of protection, blocking out any attacks that were thrown at him while he waited and made more ammo.

He woke up to a beautiful morning, the snow outside tempting him and not a cloud in the sky. He had rushed out of his pajamas, slipping on a pair of pants and a jacket before skipping breakfast and running downstairs to play.

He had found Illumi talking outside, his back to him while he discussed something with their head butler. Hiding behind a bush, Killua crouched and packed a ball of snow in his hands, forming it until it was firm enough to throw. It hit Illumi on the back of the head, his voice cutting off from the conversation and gaining the attention of Gotoh.

The snow-covered head turned to find the dying bush behind him, the layer of snow and dead branches doing almost nothing to hide Killua from his gaze. It was almost like he was trying to get caught. "Killu."

His wild hair poked out from behind the bush, a toothy grin greeting Illumi as he stepped out from his hiding spot. A ball of snow and ice was cradled in his hands, his fingers bare and without gloves.

"Young Master, please put on mittens." Gotoh pushed his glasses up, his own hands clad in black gloves that matched his uniform. He didn't feel like getting a lecture by the head of the family about their son getting frostbite from playing in the snow.

The boy didn't listen, his arm rearing back and launching the snowball into Illumi's chest.

It escalated from there.

Gotoh's warning was forgotten as he ran off towards a more open area, Illumi following at a slower pace to keep a distance between them. Killua had made a fort of snow; a wall that was wide enough to shield his body and then some. Illumi was defenseless against Killua's assault.

The rules were simple: assassin techniques weren't allowed and the first one to give up loses.

Snow stuck to Illumi's hair, matting the dark locks and he could practically feel the knots already forming in the back of his head. The freezing wind was reddening his pale skin and the ice was sticking to the thread of his gloves as he packed a snowball in his hands. He made a few, throwing one into Killua's defense to see how well it held up. The second one was thrown to the side where Killua's shoe was sticking out.

It collided with his foot, the boy yelping from surprise before he retracted and took cover entirely behind his fort. Killua vaguely thought of sharpening his nails to make a peephole in his snow wall, but knew he would be breaking his own rule in the process. He should have thought this through before he challenged Illumi to a fight.

He gambled, tossing a few snowballs over his base and hoping they made contact to the enemy. They all landed just a few feet short, the older assassin watching as his brother made an attempt to hit him with no visual on his location. If he was silent enough, he could sneak up on his brother and attack, but he wasn't sure if he would surrender.

Killua was beginning to feel the effects of the cold on his hands, now regretting his decision to ignore Gotoh. Illumi wasn't budging and he was beginning to feel hungry. Hot chocolate and warm pancakes sounded _really_ good to him as he sat in the freezing weather. It was embarrassing how loud his stomach had growled at the thought of food, alerting his brother in the process.

With the knowledge of Killua's state, he braced himself for a lecture Illumi was sure to give him about silence during a mission. Something along the lines of: " _Your target must not know you're there, no matter how hungry you are._ " Waiting, he realized that Illumi wasn't speaking at all. Almost like he wasn't even-

Killua gasped and stood up from behind his fort, his brother nowhere to be found. The impact of an icy snowball to the back of the head alerted him that Illumi had snuck up behind him while he sat and busied himself with his thoughts.

Thick-sleeved arms wrapped around his middle and lifted him into the air, his body pressed against his chest and his head against Illumi's scarf. "Caught you."

Killua had squirmed in his hold, trying to break free but to no avail. "No fair! You used a technique, that's against the rules!" His chapped lips formed a pout, but he appreciated the little warmth his brother's jacket provided him while he was stuck. Another growl of his stomach and Killua was defeated.

Illumi had laughed, turning around and marching back to the house with Killua in tow. "Eat properly, unless you want mother to worry." He noticed Killua stiffen at the words, the younger boy silent for the rest of the trip back.

He set Killua down once they reached the doors, Illumi giving his coat and scarf to the butlers that waited in the hall. His brother was already running towards the dining room, snowy shoes leaving frosted footprints in his wake. He wasn't sure who taught Killua manners, but they were certainly lacking in that department.

Breakfast was still being served and he noticed his parents were up and enjoying their meal with the rest of the family that bothered to show up. Milluki's seat was empty, indicating that he was either still asleep, or had already taken his plate up to his room. He was in charge of surveillance, but that didn't mean he couldn't sit down with the family every once and awhile.

Killua took his seat instead, wanting to be between his grandfather and Kalluto this morning. Zeno was picking at his meal, cutting into the French toast that was drenched in syrup and slathered in butter. Killua's love of sweets was definitely passed down from his grandfather.

"Killu!" Kikyo set her fork down when she saw him reaching for the plate of pancakes in the middle of the table. "Wash your hands before eating, please. Set a good example for your younger brothers."

Killua's hands were still after being caught, the boy slinking away from his chair and walking to the nearest bathroom to clean up. He supposed ice and dirt under his nails wasn't the most sanitary way to eat. He ran his hands under the warm water, sighing in relief as the heat thawed his fingers and cured the numbness that ached. Next time, gloves were going to be a necessity.

The door to the bathroom was open, allowing Killua to listen in to the conversation at the breakfast table. He heard his father talking, the assassin straining to hear the topic discussed in his absence.

"Another mission…"

"Yes, father."

Killua turned off the faucet and dried his hands on the towel provided near the sink before he returned to his family. The oldest brother was already gone by the time he got back. "Illumi's taking another job?" He sat himself down and pulled the stack of pancakes towards him, the butter already melted and dripping down the sides in a way that entranced him.

"Based off of the description, he won't be returning for a few days," Kikyo dabbed a napkin to her painted lips, a sign that she had finished eating already. "He's leaving soon, so make sure you say goodbye before then, alright?"

Killua nodded, taking a forkful of pancake into his mouth and chewing slowly, nodding his answer. He had just gotten back from a job not too long ago, but it wasn't uncommon for Illumi to leave for longer periods of time compared to the rest of the Zoldyck siblings.

" _When you're the oldest, you have the most responsibility. Remember that, Killu."_

He remembered his mother's words clearly, after he had complained that he never had time the play with Illumi anymore. He was younger then, but he missed him all the same. Milluki wasn't around to give him attention and Kalluto's time was always spent with mother. Alluka was the only one he got to spend time with, but even the six year old was on a tight leash with his parents after what happened to the butlers.

He watched as Illumi descended the stairs with a change of clothes and a small backpack. He left the house without a word.

* * *

 _Kill. Kill. Kill._

The blood was under his fingernails, splattered on his cheeks, drenching his shirt. His shoe was missing. Where was it?

 _Kill._

The house was dark, the hallway statues shadowed by the faint moonlight that was smothered by the curtains. Whispers were echoing in his head. Bodies were piled by him, their skin already decomposing and rotting into the carpet. Where was his family?

 _Kill._

"Killu." His head turned at the sound of his name, spotting the crippled movement of his mother just down the hall. She was calling out to him, her fingers reaching towards him. He could see her clearly somehow, the tattered sleeves of her kimono revealing the stump where her arm was supposed to be. Her body was soaked in red.

 _Kill._

"You're such a good boy, Killu." Her teeth were bloody, the same color as the lipstick she wore. "You make mother so proud."

She approached closer and Killua could smell death on her, like she crawled out of a coffin. She was limping, her ankle twisted and purple with bruises. "Where's father?"

The body had stopped, his mother's smile widening at the question. He couldn't see her eyes, the visor she wore still covering part of her face. "Don't you know, dear?" She pointed a bony finger towards the bodies that were on the floor, her voice high with delight. "Look."

Killua followed instructions, glancing down to see the decaying body of his father. He jumped, the smell suddenly growing worse until he tasted the rotten flesh in his mouth. An eye was missing, his hand broken and a gaping wound was tore in his back. The sight of black hair peeking out from under his body was enough to identify the next victim.

"I always knew you could do it."

 _Kill._

His mother leaned in close, her warm hands grazing his cheek in a delicate manner. The action made Killua back up and trip on his feet, falling on his behind and struggling to get away from the thing that wasn't his mom.

"We're all so proud of you. We love you so much."

 _Kill._

Killua shook his head, tears flooding his eyes as he tried to run. His body was shaking. It wouldn't listen to him. Why wasn't he moving?!

"You were made to kill."

 _Kill. Kill. Kill._

"Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

" _No!_ "

Killua jerked awake, his mouth open in a scream as he sat up in bed from his nightmare. The sheets were thrown off and his body was cold, sweat dripping from his armpits and wetting his tank top. His room was dark and the only noise was the clock that ticked on the wall, Killua fixing his eyes on the wall.

There was a sudden dark figure that appeared at the foot of his bed, Killua becoming alert and raising his arms before his wrist was grabbed and the presence was closer in the blink of an eye. "It's me."

The familiar voice was enough for Killua to relax, his arms going limp in his hold. His brother let him go before climbing into his bed, pulling the discarded sheets with him to cover them both up.

"I didn't know you were home." Killua figured he would come back soon, but assignments never had a set date of return. He was just relieved that Illumi was here with him.

"I just got back. I heard you scream from the hall." Illumi rubbed his scalp, the soothing motion making Killua close his eyes and let his sibling embrace him. "I thought you were in trouble."

Killua couldn't help but snort at the confession, smiling into his chest. He had probably woke the whole house up if it breached his bedroom walls. He wondered if his parents were opting to check up on him, or if Milluki, who was just a room away, was pulled from his sleep.

His brother was cold, most likely from the weather outside. It occurred to him that Illumi was always cold every time he touched him. He would be covered head to toe with long sleeved shirts and insulating pants, yet his skin would be freezing like he was bare in the snow.

Was his body the same way? Did he feel as cold as Illumi did?

He certainly didn't feel cold at the moment. He was sweating and the sheets now draping him weren't helping him cool down. He knew he smelled, but Illumi didn't seem to mind sharing the space with him as they laid there in silence.

His brother shifted, the bed creaking under the weight just slightly before he settled quietly and moved to press his hand to the small of Killua's back. He heard a sigh above him, his chest moving with the breath he took.

The boy wrapped an arm around his side, hoping it would prevent Illumi from leaving anytime soon, or at least until he fell asleep again. The clock continued to tick, every minute Killua spent awake until he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself anymore.

"Were we born only to kill?"

Illumi's reaction was slower than anticipated, Killua opening his eyes, but keeping his head still. Sleep had almost taken over him before the words had registered in his hazy mind. Illumi blinked and rested his hand atop his head, resisting the yawn that came to him. "Our job is to carry on the family business; killing is what we live for."

"What about you?" Killua let his brother go, sitting up and staring at his dim features. "Do you live to kill?"

"Yes." The reply was quick, Illumi's eyes shifting to meet Killua's in the dark.

A frown tugged at the seven year old's lips, his body leaning forward until his knees were pressed into the mattress. "Doesn't it make you sick, though? Murdering innocent people. I don't think it's right." He paused when Illumi's eyes narrowed slightly. "It bothers me sometimes, when I'm hired to kill someone with a family. I sometimes think of mom and dad, and what I would do if someone killed them."

Illumi laid there as Killua went on, his face emotionless.

"Do you really think we were born only to work like this?" Killua's eyes looked hopeful, seeming as though he wanted his brother to agree with his logic.

Illumi was quiet after he posed the question, pretending to think on it. He was born only to be the potential heir to the family. It was only bad luck that he wasn't blessed with his father's and grandfather's skills. His black hair was like a tainted reminder that he was never to be the head of the family. Only after twelve years of brutal training and murder and bloodshed, did he realize that he would never be strong enough to make his parents overlook his weaker genes.

Killua was born, possessing the same white hair Illumi wished he was born with, and now he was told to be a caretaker of his little brother. He was ordered to be a mentor when his father wasn't around, and taught the boy how to take a life at the age of three. He repeated the lessons his father had drilled into his head: _"Don't make friends. Don't fight enemies you can't kill. Think of yourself as an object until the moment is right to strike. This is what makes you a Zoldyck."_

His family meant everything to him. He would gladly die if it meant protecting his family from harm. Didn't Killua feel the same?

"Yes."

* * *

"As heir, it's your duty to... where are you going?!" Kikyo pulled her dress above her heels as she turned to keep up with her son, biting her lip to hold her frustration.

Killua continued on, hands in his pockets and feet marching to the stairs. "I told you, I don't want to take over the business. I don't want my whole life planned out and be stuck here for the rest of my life. I can't do the things I want being cooped up in this house every day. You'll smother me to death."

He made it to the stairs, ascending them until he could see the door that led to the main room of the house. His father had let him go, as long as he returned with a report of his adventure. He thought he would have gotten scolded by the man, but he was surprised to find that Silva even agreed with him.

"Everything we do is for you, Killu. Are you really going to throw it away over some rebellious phase?" Killua's hand was stopped by his mother's, her sharp nails curling to mark him. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Killua manipulated his fingers, veins bulging from his skin as he raised his hand to slice her face, his mother shrieking and pulling back to touch her bleeding wound. Her skin was torn, pale flakes peeling from the bloody cuts that ran from cheek to cheek. "Killu-"

The ex-assassin turned on his heel and pushed the door open, light shining from the room and illuminating the underground chamber he emerged from. Heavy footsteps were coming from his left, Milluki running down in a panic. "Mama!"

His button up shirt was wrinkled and he was sweating, a sign that he had rushed from the second floor at the sound of her scream. "What did you do?!" His brother heaved when he made it to Killua's floor level, spotting his mother sitting downstairs and covering her face.

He reached to grab Killua, ready to inflict justified punishment, but Killua was quicker. He stabbed his hand through his side and yanked back, watching his face twist in pain before he fell to his knees. There was a red spot that slowly soaked through his shirt, the blotch growing in size before Milluki's hand pressed against the wound.

He walked out of the house, leaving his brother and mother to deal with their injuries. The butlers outside bowed at his presence, none of them speaking as he left them quietly. Canary awaited with his skateboard, the young butler presenting it to him with a smile. He had left it in her care not too long ago, he could only trust her to keep his precious board unscathed while he was home.

Killua paused when he felt the presence of Illumi nearby, the man appearing from the trees not long after. His long black hair was combed back to keep the strands from falling in his face. Killua never understood why he grew it out if it would only get in the way.

"I thought father was going to send Kalluto for a job today?" Illumi's dark eyes widened a bit, his head tilted in confusion. His face remained as stoic as ever.

"I'm leaving."

The man blinked at the answer.

"Don't try to stop me." Killua took his skateboard and tucked it under his arm, hands in his pockets as he moved to walk past his brother. A hand was placed on his shoulder, Killua's eyes narrowing dangerously before he turned around and swatted it away. "Leave me alone!"

Illumi retracted his hand, watching carefully for any gesture that may have indicated potential violence. Killua was on edge and his eyes were dark, but his stance was passive and nonthreatening. He knew better than to fight his oldest brother, at least. "Could you explain to me why?" The question was genuine enough, something that Illumi wanted an answer to. He couldn't think of a reason why Killua would want to leave on his own. "If it's to train, I could-"

"It's not." Killua cut him off, his hands balled into fists to prevent himself from lashing out a third time. "I need to get out of here, don't you get it? I'm tired of you and father and mother forcing me to become something I don't want to be. I want to challenge myself and become stronger, not stay home and do someone else's dirty work for them." He dug his heel in the dirt and gripped his skateboard tighter, turning until his back was to Illumi and he was walking away. "You're better off taking over the business than I am."

Illumi watched in silence as his brother walked out of sight, disappearing and leaving him and Canary by themselves. To think that a child such as him would dare to leave the estate over a matter so trivial. He was there to _help_ him become strong; to be worthy of the Zoldyck name. He was gifted with a wonderful talent, only for it to be wasted because of selfish reasons.

If only it was him, the oldest who possessed his skills; maybe then things would have been easier. Instead it was Killua. He put his desires aside for the benefit of the family, raising Killua to become a splendid assassin. Did he know what it was like, watching his siblings vomit and choke on the poison you were instructed to give them in their meals? Being the cause of their misery, all for the family name?

He was forced to swallow his personal feelings and follow instructions, whether it was beating his brothers or telling them that their lives didn't matter until their jobs were completed. He endured the same, but he couldn't stand being the one behind the whip; to watch Killua's eyes lose their light just to take the pain. Did his parents hate the sight, too, when they whipped him?

"Master Illumi," Canary held her staff behind her, her eyes fixed on his back. She felt the difference of his aura after a minute, feeling the need to speak out of concern. Her expression didn't falter when he turned to face her. "I believe he will return. Please have faith in him." She could see how Killua felt being at home, but she couldn't stand watching Illumi in silence anymore.

The oldest stared at her with a blank look before he nodded and left her, walking up the trail that led to the mansion in hopes of taking his mind off of Killua. He would return home like nothing had happened and he would go back to his training like before.

Just like he should.


End file.
